The Darkness Within
by GakupoFangirl
Summary: Gilbert is not the man he once was. Dissolved in 1947, he has returned to visit the one he loves. Will Ludwig find a way to free his brother from the curse he lives under?
1. Under the Moonlight

**Hi everyone… this is my first fanfic, rated T for now (for swearing and stuff) and I don't know if it has any pairings yet (not extreme anyhow), although I've considered. May be rated M in the future. Human names are used. Please don't hurt me, this is my first (and terrible) fanfic!**

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><p>Ludwig turned onto his side to stare out the window at the glowing moon, which seemed somehow more foreboding than usual. It was that time of the month again, he should've been asleep, but he wasn't. He <em>couldn't<em> be asleep tonight, knowing that any minute there would be a creak of chains, the shuffle of heavy footsteps. Every month, for years he'd had the same dream, always on the night of the full moon. Or at least he's thought it was a dream. It all seemed so unreal, those red vampire-like eyes staring down at him, the black _glow_ of shadows—could shadows even glow? It all seemed to be questioning his sanity. And tonight, he would be awake to see if it all really existed.

Ludwig sighed heavily and pulled the blankets over his head again, wondering if this was some kind of answer to his questions about all those legends of vampires and werewolves. The red-eyed creature, man or animal he wasn't sure of, appeared once on the night of the full moon at midnight, every month, according to what he'd seem in his "dreams". He—or it—stayed for the night, then, when Ludwig rose in the morning, the figure vanished into thin air. It was always there, whispering in his ear, murmuring with pain and hurt in its voice, speaking silently to him as if he could hear it. And he had heard.

Ludwig turned to glance at the clock before burying himself into the blankets again. It was at last 12 o' clock. Feliciano was at Romano's house for the night, thank God, or this would frighten him to death.

A small and barely audible squeak resonated through the lonely room, and Germany shivered. _He's here…_ The window was pushed up, and a cold breeze swept through the room. _The light of the full moon has brought him back to life… what _is _he? A ghost? Or maybe a vampire…_

Footsteps made their way where he lay, accompanied by a broken jangle of chains, stopping at the side of the large bed. "_Hello, Ludwig…"_ a voice breathed, sending cold shivers up Ludwig's spine.

The voice was ghostly and harsh, yet somehow familiar to his ears. _Who are you? _The blankets were pulled off his head, the figure stood back to examine the German.

"_I've missed you so much, you don't know how much pain I've been feeling…_" He felt the soft touch of warm lips on his forehead. _Always like this. Once a month you come here to watch me. Always speaking to me silently like this. Yet you never reveal yourself. And for once I'm awake to see you_. _To _catch_ you…_

At the touch the blonde launched his attack, grabbing the collar of the intruder and pushing the slim figure down to the bed, snatching his handgun from under his pillow and staring into those dark ruby eyes, shocked by the pain and anger they held deep within. "Who are you?"

"…" His attacker remained silent, giving the nation time for his eyes to slightly adjust to the dark.

"… _Bruder_? Bruder, is that you?" Ludwig's hand moved to take the gun away from Gilbert's forehead, but he decided otherwise. "You—You're supposed to be dead! I _saw_ you die! I was at your funeral, I watched you being lowered into the ground! You were _dissolved_ in 1947!"

Gilbert's dark eyes burned deep into his icy blue ones. "I may have been and I may not have been."

"…then who are you? You can't be my brother." Tears streamed down Ludwig's face—forgotten memories stirred in his mind as he held the gun to the other man's head. This couldn't be Gilbert, the one that he had lost so long ago… "Gilbert is… he's _gone_…"

"_Well, it's the awesome me. I'm back, Ludwig, why can't you just accept it?_"Gibert stared at him with those pleading eyes, and Germany knew that for once he wasn't kidding.

"Then where were you all this time?" demanded his little brother, threatingly pressing the gun at the man's forehead, no doubt leaving a mark.

"Let me stand and I'll explain everything. If you don't hurry, we won't have enough time."

Ludwig turned to stare at the clock. It had only been a few minutes… "What do you mean? We have until dawn. That's when you disappear, right?"

"_No. Now that you have seen me, it will be less than an hour before I vanish into the night. I can only live in this world if you see me only in your dreams, and now you have seen me in reality. I must leave, the next time we meet each other will be next month. If you don't listen to me, Ludwig, I'm afraid I must—"_

"No!" shouted the German. "Don't leave. I'll do what you tell me to, but first answer me one question."

"… _And what would that question be…?_" The Prussian hissed impatiently.

"Why… no, _what_ made you like this?" What turned you into this creature of the night?"

"_A strange question, little bruder. You won't like the answer._"

"Just tell me before I blow your head off!" threatened Ludwig, slipping his finger over the smooth, black trigger and trying to hide his tears with his anger. "Tell me and don't even think about stalling so you can just disappear without answering!"

"_You!_" snarled Gilbert. "_You are why I am what I am. Why I'm this monster. It is because of you, and because of that night in 1947, that I am this monster."_

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><p><strong>Okay, don't kill me cuz I warned you this would be bad. For sure there'll be a second chapter, please review and tell me what I need to fix. Don't tell me why Prussia sounds so formal, he's dead! <strong>_**Hello**_**?**


	2. Until Next Time

**Hello, I'm totally back cuz I got a few reviews from some readers, encouraged me to go on. Although I can't really get past the idea that this fanfic I'm writing is terrible. .' Ah well, please read and see what mistakes I make, I could use some help with my writing. Danke!**

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><p>"Me? What did I do? How could I h—have turned you into th—this?" Ludwig's grip on the gun loosened, it dropped to the hardwood floor with a loud clatter that range unbroken into the night as the two brothers stared at each other. Gilbert's ruby eyes burned deep into Ludwig's, who swallowed hard and moved away from him, clutching desperately at the blankets as if searching for something, <em>anything<em> to hold onto. He had to hold on, he needed _something_ to make sense—his thoughts were all blurry and distorted, his emotions garble. "No… _no_… you can't be Gilbert…"

It was the only thing that would've made sense had he been thinking about it the day before, or any other time. But as much as he tried to believe that this man was not his brother, the more he came to realize that this _had_ to be. This _had_ to be Gilbert, in this situation this was the only piece of the puzzle that actually fit.

"_Yes! Verdammt, West, it's me! I've come back to the human world, why is it to difficult for you to accept?_"

"I… I don't e—even know if this is at all even possible. You being here, you're supposed to be… dead," said Ludwig flatly.

"_I know that, bruder. Who says I'm not dead?_" Gilbert sighed heavily and moved stiffly, trying to feel his legs, they had gotten numb after being motionless for so long. He leaned against the wall behind the bed, rubbing his pale forehead where the gun had left a large, red mark.

"B—But what I mean is that… if you're dead, you shouldn't be here in the first place!"

Ludwig inhaled deeply, turning his head to stare out the window at the glowing moon, his heart pounding from fright. Or was he actually afraid? This was his brother after all. So many emotions swirled inside his head, mixing together confusingly. Was he scared? Or awed? He didn't know anymore, and he wasn't sure he wanted to know. He almost wished he _couldn't_ feel, he didn't want all these emotions to overwhelm him.

"And, well… anyways, I promised to hear you out if you answered my question. S—so explain yourself. Le—let me guess. You said I turned you into this monster. So you probably came here to make me turn you back to human, right? To undo the curse?"

Gilbert gazed unhappily at his little brother, at his emotionless face that was ghostily illuminated by the white moonlight. Did West even care that he was here just for a chance, once a month, to see the one he loved? And did he even care that _he_ was the one Gilbert cared for? The only reason he continued to live, or even _want_ to live, in the world of humans every month? Every time the light of the moon brought him back to life, the pain that seized his body, that racked him, was unbearable, but if Ludwig had ceased to love him after all those years, the hurt in his heart would overpower any other pain, or feeling, he'd ever felt. All that mattered now was his little brother. But the question was, did _he_ still matter anything to Ludwig?

"_I need you to see me, bruder, for what I truly am, before we can continue. Before the curse can become undone._"

"I've already seen you. What do you think I've been looking at the whole time, the wall?"

"_No_," uttered Gilbert, biting his lower lip getnly to keep it from quivering, but the tears were forming in his eyes. Ludwig's tone seemed so harsh, he couldn't help it; on any normal day, if he were alive, he would've brushed it right off, but at times like these they seemed so uncaring, so _hateful_. "_I need you to truly see me. My whole form._"

His brother was silent and for a moment Gilbert was afraid he'd said something wrong. But abruptly, Ludwig rose from the bed and made his way out of the room and down the dark, cold hall in a direction Gilbert immediately recognized.

"_Wait!_" He leapt up from the bed to follow the German. "_What the hell are you going to your office for at this time of the night? Don't tell me you're going to file paperwork while I'm here! For the last time what do you think you are doing?_"

"I'm going to call England," mumbled Ludwig, quickening his pace as he pushed the office door open. "He'll know what to do with you; he's the sorcerer around here. I bet Arthur would be glad to take you, because I don't have time to deal with someone like you. If you need some kind of help with coming back to this world, don't ask me."

Gilbert froze in the doorway, feeling suddenly as if Ludwig himself had taken the knife and stabbed him in the heart. His little brother didn't want to deal with "someone like him"? This _did_ truly hurt more than anything else he had encountered in his inhumane prison, to know that someone he loved hated him.

"_Bruder… is that all you think I want you for? Do _you_ even give a damn about what happens to me?_"

"Of course I do!" snapped Ludwig, lifting the phone from its hold. "It's just I can't tell if _you_ care about me! Did you actually _ever_ even care for _me_? Or was it all you, all about the awesome you? Sometimes I don't even know if you ever thought about me at all, you could just be using me to get back to being human and then you would just abandon me! And you know what, I don't even care anymore!"

Ludwig actually flinched at his own words as he held the phone to his ear, staring down at the numbers as he dialed Arthur's cell. He hadn't exactly meant to sound so harsh, he'd just wanted a way to get Gilbert away from him so he could think and be free of all those feelings. He knew now that he must appear emotionless to his older brother, but deep inside he felt as if his soul had died, as if the entire world has lost his meaning and become dull and drab if Gilbert had not been there. Yes, it was true that Gilbert was somewhat vain, and possibly self-consumed, but there _had_ been times where Ludwig had been sure that his big bruder loved him. When Gilbert died, he had been alone, with no friends, his whole world torn apart. But as much as he wanted Gilbert's love for him to be real, he was no longer sure he could believe in what he once thought to be the truth.

"_I'm sorry, Ludwig!_" Ludwig refused to look up at him, but Gilbert pleaded, "_I'm sorry, I know in the past I've created cause for you to dislike me, perhaps even _hate _me, but I'm not the man I was, bruder, please! Please! All I want is for us to be together again!_"

"How can I trust you anymore?" snarled Ludwig, stiffening once more as the phone began to ring. "What have you given me to convince me that I can trust you? Nothing! That's it! Nothing! So why, Gilbert? Tell me why!"

"_Because I'm different now, Ludwig,_" begged Ludwig. "_Death can change a person. Ludwig… please… I beg of you…_"

Ludwig's eyes trailed from the floor and up to Gilbert's. "Oh Gilbert, I just don't know anymore…"

"_Then please,_" His brother whispered hoarsely, "_Look at me now, and start to believe. I don't have time, Ludwig, I'll be gone soon! I have only a few minutes, I can feel it! Look at me now!_" Gilbert strode into the room and clamped his hands down on his brother's shoulders tightly. "_Ludwig… you know I love you, but things can only work out if you choose to love me too._" He took a shaky breath. "_You won't like what you see, but you have to do it. You have to accept what I am now or you'll never accept me later when or _if_ I return. And if you can't love me, than no one else can. This is the first step. Now please, bruder—put the damn phone down and look at me. At what I am._"

Gilbert stared at his brother hopelessly and stepped back, a tear slideing down his cheek. Ludwig hesitated for one moment, then he placed the phone carefully back where it belonged. And then he reluctantly raised his head to gape at his brother.

"Oh—Oh _mein Gott_!" He screamed and backed into his desk with such force that it knocked over his ink bottles and lamp, and his phone set fell to the floor with a deafening crash as Ludwig trembled in terror at the sight of his big brother. "What _happened_ to you, Gilbert?"

This was the first time he's ever seen Gilbert dressed in completely black—the man's dark garbs were made of shockingly thin and coarse material that had been torned and ragged from years of torture, exposing parts of his bare and pale chest, arms, thights, and knees, where Ludwig could clearly see terrible, dark burns on his arms and legs. His wrists and ankles were bound by iron chains and clamps, heavy and large and weighing him down considerably. On his chest were sets of deep, bloody gashes and tears that could've been left by the claws of wild animals, and the black, rumpled cloth around the wounds were soaked with dark blood. Out of his back sprouted two giant, ethereal wings of black, nearly as tall as Gilbert himself and nearly six feet in width each when the man spread them out. The wings were made of beautiful, sleek feathers, so light and perfect in design, but made from pure black shadow. They curved out gracefully around Gilbert, like the handle of an elegant teacup on each side of the slim figure, and ended in sharp points at the bottom, the wings themselves were surrounded by a mystical, red, glowing _mist_. The sight filled Ludwig with dread and painful memories as he force himself to look into Gilbert's face one last time. Gilbert's once gray hair now shone the color of moonlight, his ruby eyes glowed rediscently, tears of blood streaked his face.

"_This, Ludwig, is what you turned me into_." Gilbert suddenly gave a racking sob and collapsed onto the floor on his knees, the tears of blood continuing to flow without pause. "_I'm so sorry you had to see all this, bruder,_" he gasped, "_and now I must leave you. I cannot stay for long… my time is gone._"

"No! You can't leave, Gilbert!" cried Luwig, crashing onto his knees to face his brother. He now finally knew how much Gilbert had sacrificed for him, how much suffering he'd experienced. "I need you!"

"_No… I can't stay anymore… The next time I am allowed to visit what I once had… is next month..._"

"On the night of the full moon," finished Ludwig, a tear running down his own cheek. Gilbert stared up helplessly into the icy blue eyes of the brother he once had, the tears of blood streaming relentlessly. "I will await you, bruder," whispered Ludwig, putting a hand on Gilbert's shoulder.

"_A—as… I will await you, Ludwig… I will—I will never stop loving you. No matter what, bruder, I will never cease to love you the way I once did._" Gilbert let out a pained groan and cried, "_I must leave you now! G—Goodbye, my brother._"

"N—no, wait, bruder!" I—I need answers! What happened to you, why are you like this? Why do you _suffer_?"

Gilbert clutched his chest as the cuts on his chest began to bleed freely and the burns on his arms and legs reopened, fresh once more. "_I—I can give you no more information, bruder… but remember—ah!_"

The crack of an invisible whip snapped the room out of its silent nightime slumber as the first rays of sunlight hit Gilbert's dark wings. Gilbert screamed, burying his face in his hands, a new bloody gash appearing on his back above the spot where the wings sprang from his pallid skin. "_Remember—aah!—the night of... of 1947! No, no, no, please don't hurt me anymore! Please—noooo!_"

And instantly Gilbert vanished into the night as he let out one last scream of pain—and then Gilbert Beilschmidt was no more.

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><p><strong>I hope you don't all hate me now… Please review anyhow. *derp face* I'm new, again, so please refrain from killing me. Review, review, review, or PM me if you already reviewed, about how I can improve! Again, sorry if the chapter was long-ish, boring or unsatisfactory. Any suggestions or tips would be awesome, I have some of the next chapter planned out already! So if you are an ENGLAND fan, come forth! Iggy-appearance in the next chapter! Oh, and I'll warn you I'm planning to turn this into a GermanyXPrussia thing. I have a thing for all the Hetalia pairs in existence. XXD<strong>


	3. England's Phone Call

**Hi everyone… I assume some people must still be following the story, so I'm uploading again. I'd still , just in case. And again, this is the chapter with Iggy in it. And if anyone wants to reach me, PM me. I wouldn't mind at all, non, not at all! And if you can't reach me there, email me at  
>Also when Arthur says things about the <strong>_**Bismarck**_** and **_**The Prince of Wales**_** and **_**The Hood**_**, those are actual battle cruisers from World War II. More information in the next chapter if you people want it, but the article actually teared me up when I read it. Inspiration can be misery, after all…  
>Thank you for even reading this! *puts on sunglasses* Come forth, Iggy!<strong>

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><p>England rolled over in bed to slam a sturdy hand on his alarm clock, positioned on his nightstand, which he had managed to ignore for the past few minutes. The radio alarm clock was supposed to wake him up at 7 AM each mornign with rock music (Iggy's favorite), but somehow America had reprogrammed the alarm to record his voice, and so Arthur had risen from his slumber to a disturbing shout of: "Hamburgers and coffee—I'm the hero—yeah man! America America America America—" omitting from his clock in the place of British rock.<p>

The "song", as Alfred called it, had gone on for a while with Arthur's little brother screaming tunelessly into the recording, "AMERICA AMERICA AMERICA—HERO!—AMERICA AMERICA…" and had shown no sign of ceasing its restless chant.

"What the bloody hell—he can reprogram my alarm clock to say abominable things..." Arthur pulled the blankets over his head, thankful for the sudden silence. "… But he can't even find Europe's location on a map."

Just as Arthur had begun to manage to relax, his cell phone suddenly erupted into a flow of endless ringing.

"WHAT THE BLOODY—" Arthur snatched the phone up from the nightstand, sat up, cleared his throat, and pressed "talk". "Good day, this is Arthur Kirkland, may I be of any service to you?"

"You can be of service to me," replied a deep voice, "by holding your temper long enough to hear me out."

"Germany!" Arthur scowled as he slammed an angry fist on the stand by his bedside, causing the reading lamp on it to wobble dangerously. "How dare you call me, you imbecile! I still haven't forgiven you for sinking and injuring my battle cruisers! _The Prince of Wales_ was hit badly, you damaged her so much, and _The Hood_ was completely destroyed! You bloody bastard, I will _never, ever_, forgive you for—"

"Arthur!" yelled Ludwig on the other end, unable to wait out Arthur's ranting any longer. "World War II is years past! Why don't you worry more about the present and forget what happened?"

"..Uh huh… Hold on a moment, why am I even speaking to a bloody murderer like you?" questioned the thick-eyebrowed nation.

"… I assume it's because I called you?" guessed Ludwig, then cleared his head and said, "Arthur, I truly don't have the time to play your little games. The reason I called you in the first place is because—"

"Because you wanted to remind me of the fucking things you did during the war?"

"No! _Verdammt_, Arthur, I'm not kidding with you anymore! I called you because I need your help!" shouted the blonde, singking into his office chair as he spoke the words. He gazed tearfully at the spot where he'd last seen his brother, the faint reminder of the night before. Even now he hoped it had all been a dream. "Arthur, I don't care if you hate me, I don't care if we've had grudges years before, and I called _you_ because now I need your help. So please, Arthur, find your humanity!"

"… You know that as nations, we never really were humans, right, Ludwig?" asked Arthur, frowning at the thought of even mingling with the humans. "This must be bad then, if you're even getting the humans involved."

"I know, it's just a saying," mumbled Ludwig. "But please, Arthur, this is far more important to me than my own country."

"All right, but hurry up. I don't have the time for these melancholy tales, and I'm losing my patience with you."

"I'm losing mine with you, too," Ludwig informed him. "Why are you always in such a gloomy mood, Arthur? You'd be able to work more easily if you weren't so stressed out like this."

Arthur scoffed skeptically, running his fingers unconciously through his layered hair. "I could say the same for you, kraut bastard. You sound exhausted, what did you do, stay up the whole night peeling your potatoes?"

"… Arthur, have you been spending time around Lovino? You seem to enjoy tormenting me even more than he does."

"No, I have been in contact with the Vargases for some time, actually. But I'll inform you of something; you know why I'm stressed out? America has come over to stay for the week to discuss our alliance and all he's truly done is wreak havoc in my house. The other Allies are coming this afternoon and he hasn't even gotten out of bed yet, much less help me to prepare. I have so much work on my shoulders," said Arthur, gritting his teeth menacingly, "and it simply isn't helping either to have an idiotic potato bastard ordering me around on the phone at seven in the morning! You stupid oaf, you don't understand how much pressure I'm under nowadays! I bet you're sitting around, slacking off without a care in the world!"

"Arthur, you know that isn't really true! You have no idea what just happened to me—"

"Political struggles!" yelled the other man. "Weakening government! No conquers lately and on top of all that the humans are getting into matters! It's all aching my body; I can hardly get to sleep at night! Do you understand, there is _nothing_ worse than what I am dealing with at this moment! Do you read me, potato bastard?"

For a short moment there was nothing but silence on the other line, and Arthur began to wonder if the German had abruptly hung up on him while he had been rambling on, and speculated whether he should also hang up when Ludwig whispered hoarsely, "You really enjoy hurting me, don't you?"

"L-Ludwig…" stammered Arthur; he had been jarred by the unexpected answer, and a wave of guilt overwhelming him. He really hadn't thought that Ludwig would feel hurt, just that he would shout a few curses at the Britishman and then hang up, but this was beyond imagination. "Y—you know that I didn't really mean it, right? I mean, I—I'm just under a lot of pressure right now, I—"

"_Nothing_," shouted Ludwig, a dry sob escaping from his lips, "that has happened to you could _ever_ compare to what's happened to _me_! And not just me—" He began to cry freely, the teardrops landing on his desk, which he had not left since dawn. "Tell me, Arthur—how would you feel if something had happened to your brother?"

"France? That idiot? You know I don't give a single damn for that weakling and his flashy clothe—"

"No! _Verdammt_, not Francis! I'm talking about America!" cried Ludwig, burying his face in his hands at an attempt to keep in all the tears as Arthur suddenly stiffened at the mention of his little brother.

"D—did you say America?" muttered Arthur, staring at the wall on the other side of the room, dazed at Ludwig's question. "A—Alfred? I—if something happened to… Alfred?"

"Ja! What would you do, how far would you go to save him is something happened to him? If he were _dying_?"

"No… _no_, not Alfred… I mean, he may be an imbecile and a—an _idiot_, but… I'd do _anything_ for him. I'd even come begging to Russia-san to help me save him if—if he were dying… w—wait…" A wave of reality instantly washed over the British gentleman. "You think Gilbert… is in danger? He's your brother, right? The one who was killed in 1947? But if he's dead already, why are you calling me then?"

"Because he… I n—need to know… what's—what's happened to him… he's… oh _Gott_!" Ludwig burst into another fresh splash of tears as he recalled Gilbert, staring helplessly into his eyes as he was pulled back into the world of pain and misery he had come from.

"L—Ludwig!" Arthur sat up in bed in shock. "Are—are you actually _crying_? Ludwig, please, I—"

"Goodbye, England! I don't need your help anymore! So you can forget all about this conversation!"

"Ludwig, wait!" But Arthur was too late, the latter had hung up. "Oh, dammit!" screamed Arthur, hurling his cell across the room into the bedroom wall, where it shattered from the deadly force of the angered nation, also leaving a good-sized dent in the wall and cracking the light-green paint.

Without hesitation, Arthur threw his blankets off, and without even a thought of changing into some appropriate wear, he stormed from the room, still clad in a light gray set of pajamas.

"Hey, hey England!" greeted a disheveled American, also dressed in a pair of rumpled blue PJs, his glasses crooked. Wow, this is cool, that's the first time I've ever seen you in your sleep wear! Is it some kind of special day?"

"No!" barked Arthur, pushing past him and into the hall. "I'm busy! Go away, Alfred!"

"Huh?" The clueless blonde stopped in his tracks. "What are you…? England…" A determined expression frlashed onto his face, and Alfred slipped into Arthur's room; Arthur reasoned that the boy was probably going to rifle around in his drawers to see if he had left any loose change around. And he didn't care.

As Arthur entered the living room, he glanced at the granfather clock standing at the far wall. _Good, Ivan, Yao, and Francis won't be here for a few hours_, he thought, snatching up the electronic home phone and pressing the numbers with a rather murderous look and his usually calm face.

"E—England… what _is_ this?" cried Alfred, stumbling, stunned, into the grand room with shards and bits of what used to be Arthur's cell phone, which had bits of paint from the wall clinging to it, in his hand. "Your cell phone! It's totally busted!"

"I don't care," replied Arthur, holding the phone to his ear. "It doesn't matter to me anymore. There are more important things."

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><p>After hanging up, Ludwig bit his lip and brought his legs up onto the swivel chair to hug his knees the way he used to as a child. He could remember those days that had once been over and done, the days that Prussia had been there for him, had been there as his older brother.<p>

England had objectively refused to help him, _now _how was he going to help Gilbert? Slowly Ludwig lowered his forehead onto his knees and began to cry silently; his arms stung from the cold, exposed by his sleeveless black tanktop, but he could hardly feel it. All that mattered was Gilbert, and Gilbert was gone.

And then Japan opened the door, solemnly humming his national anthem as he cradled a stack of paperwork that looked much too large for such a small nation to be carrying. When he spotted his ally in tears, Kiku set the pile of papers on the German's office desk and mumured softly, "Ludwig… did Arthur say no?"

Even before Ludwig nodded, he knew the answer. "It's alright, Ludwig," said the quiet country, stepping around the furniture to place a hand on the other's shoulder. "We can get through this. We have until the next full moon to figure out a way to aid Gilbert."

"I know," sobbed Ludwig somberly, "B—but… who else but Arthur knows these things?"

"… I don't know," shrugged Kiku, leaving Ludwig's side to stare thougthfully out the window and down into his colleague's front yard. "But we can only hope to find someone, if not Arthur Kirkland. A month is a long time, Ludwig, we may find out more. Don't lose hope."

Ludwig gulped, trying to get his throat, which felt sore and dry, to work correctly. "I…I just don't know," sighed the blonde, lowering his feet back down on the floor and resting his arms on the chair. "Arthur… well, he was really my last and only hope. There was never anyone else like England."

For a moment, the two nations remained still, gazing off into space. Ludwig was so deep in thought that he nearly toppled out of the chair when the phone rang. Kiku continued to face the window with glazed eyes, and so the blonde sighed and picked up. "He—Hello?"

He was even more shocked to hear Arthur's voice shout, "LUDWIG BEILSCHIMDT! Get over to my place at ten and precisely ten and I'll help you out, you hear? One minute later than that and I'm locking you out! Got it?" boomed the voice of the British man.

The reciever slammed, and Ludwig sat, bewildered, the phone still pressed against his ear.

"What was that?" inquired the curious and nearly inaudible voice of Honda Kiku. "Who called?"

"K—Kiku… I—Arthur Kirkland. He's agreed to help us. To help Gilbert."

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><p>Arthur sighed, satisfied, and began to retreat back to his bedroom. "Well, that's done," he murmured.<p>

"Hey—what was that all about?" demanded Alfred, straightening his glasses and hurrying after his friend. "Are you and Germany in some kind of evil league now like in Person of Interest where—"

"No," interrupted Arthur, slowing his pace to let the boy catch up. "I'm helping him out with something."

"_You_? Helping that square out with something?" Alfred scratched his head, confused. "I thought you hated him."

"Well, I changed my mind." Arthur explained, or at least, he tried to. (With America it's a bit hard to get anything across.) "It's a bit complicated, but… perhaps it's time to put the past and World War II behind us and start fresh."

"Well, what the FRUK made you change your mind?" wondered Alfred, pulling a hamburger from nowhere to chomp on.

Arthur groaned and replied, "If you must know. Well, let me put it this way—what would you do if something happened to your brother… um, let me see, what's his name… Cuba… Candice… Cana—that's right, Canada. What would you do if something happened to your little brother Canada?"

"Canada?" Alfred scrunched up his eyebrows in thought. "… Oh… you must mean Matthew, right?"

"Fine, then, Matthew. So? What would you do if Cana—I mean, Matthew—were in trouble? Or dying?" asked Arthur, turning to peer curiously at Alfred, interested in the nation's answer.

"I'd… eat a hamburger and have a cup of coffee like I always do…and then be the hero?" guessed Alfred, giving Arthur a hopeful thumbs-up. "Did I pass the test or what?"

And our dear little Iggy sighed and slammed his bedroom door in Alfred's jovial face.

**All right, there you guys go… originally I planned for this to be three times as long, but then I changed my mind cuz I really want the next part on its own. No Gilbert appearance in this one, but in the next chapter, coincidently the rest of the Allies show up. Some cursing, angst, and torture scenes are involved, sorry. Gilbert's in that one. *smile* Any suggestions? Review or email please!**


	4. The Pain of Hell

**Hi, it's me~! It's this chapter with torture scenes in hell and stuff like that and then… okay, just read it and please REVIEW! Can I make myself clearer?**

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><p>Ludwig stumbled down the path in the direction of England's house, his jacket placed on his shoulders as usual, and then turned back to wave a solemn goodbye to Kiku, who saluted gravely from Ludwig's porch.<p>

"Sayonara, my friend," whispered the Japanese, "and may the gods allow all this to turn out for the better."

Of course, Ludwig was too far away to hear Kiku, and probably would not even have heard him if he were right next to the other man, but he tensed and turned his gaze to the sky, fingering the cross under the cloth of his tanktop and feeling that somewhere, somehow, Gilbert was watching him. What would he tell England, and how could he convince the Britishman to help?

Ludwig, however, had figured out that Arthur had long harbored a secret obsession for black magic, as well as concealing the fact that he regularly practiced the art, so it probably wouldn't be difficult to enlist his aid. At least Ludwig now knew that Arthur had a heart.

His feet suddenly feeling disfunctional, he took a few more steps determinedly, but after nearly tripping on the unleveled, rocky road, he shuffled over to the side of the path, sitting, rejectedly, down with an abject feeling rising in his own heart. This was not going to work.

_Gilbert's dead and he's under a curse… the only one who can help him is me—a nervous wreck_. _Wonderful_.

Ludwig buried his face in his hands, trying to make sense of what was going on. What was the meaning of all of this? If Gilbert was dead, why did he even care to return every full moon? Why did Ludwig remember every month of Gilbert's visits, of the clacking chains, the red eyes that gazed down on him?

_I guess that's what I need Arthur for_, reasoned Ludwig. It had actually been Japan's idea to phone the Englishman—Germany had been far too distraught to think properly. Come to think of it, he still was quite far from being in his right mind. "Oh, Gilbert… what are you… _why_ are you here? _Why_ do you haunt _me_?"

"_Because I love you, Ludwig!"_

Ludwig's head snapped up, he wearily peered around at his surroundings. "Gilbert?" None was there. "Gilbert? Come on, I know I heard you somewhere. W—Where are you? Hurry up, show yourself!"

And instantly there was a blinding flash of _black_ that nearly shocked him into having a stroke—and suddenly Gilbert stood, not more than 10 feet away, struggling against the chains that held him, stood the silver-haired man. His wrists were bound in rough, rusted iron clamps that were attached to a long chain of metal tied to a jagged-edged, sharp boulder. His wings sprouted, the magnificent feathers now crumpled and damaged, falling from the crippled wings, out of Gilbert's bare and whip-battered back.

And Ludwig stood, staring in horror at their surroundings—a burning, bloody battlefield, black with ashes and red with the glaring flames that consumed it. The crack of a whip, and Gilbert cowered, screaming in agony as a new gash appeared on his back, bleeding for a few moments, and then his skin closed over the wound, healing it of its own accord, but apparently causing the man great anguish.

"_No… no… don't—please—don't do this to me!_" The whip sounded once more, the wounds reopened, tears of blood ran down his brother's face. "_I—I can't t—take it… aah!_"

Ludwig flinched, gasping fearfully as Gilbert screamed painfully, he was hurting inside so much just to watch this.

"_No… I don't want to be here… i—it scares me so badly…!_"

Alone in a battlefield. That, Ludwig knew, was what his brother feared. Being the last of the Prussians, kneeling in surrender, at the feet of the enemy, the bodies of his comrades burning behind him. And sure enough, when Ludwig squinted into the fire, he could glimpse the lifeless figures of the elegantly-clad soldiers. Their forms hovered and receded in the distorting illusion of the flames' heat, their quivers slung over their backs, the black hats still perched ever so delicately on their heads as they lay, motionless, on the battlefield where they had fallen.

The cruel screech of a wild creature ran through the air suddenly, and Ludwig turned to see that Gilbert, groaning, had collapsed into a heap on the burning ground, a fresh set of claw marks in his chest, bleeding heavily, but Gilbert refused to cry out, even as blood trickled from his cuts.

"_I—I had to!_" gasped Gilbert abruptly, as if an unheard voice were whispering to him—tormenting him. "_H—he forced me to, he practically begged me! Please… don't do this… It w—wasn't just my fault! He was drunk…_"

Ludwig's blood ran cold as he listened to the rasped words, his heart sinking as he realized what Gilbert was talking about. _So… that's what he meant by "the night of 1947"_. _That's why this is all happening…_

Gilbert groaned, a deep whip-mark forming on his skin, and then tried to speak, "_I—I don't know if her loves me anymore… after all the time that's passed, after everything that's happened… but n—no matter what's happened in the past… I will love him._" The unseen whip was flung, lashing the man at its mercy.

"_Aah! Because…_" The invisible torturer began to beat Gilbert, who choked as something collided with his stomach, probably a fist, his skin red from raw exposure to the fire, and blood flowed from a corner of his lips. _"Because he is my bruder. I—I will always love him. No m—matter what happens, I will love him._"

Now there was the agitated roar of the tormenter, the beast began to claw and pound at the poor man, who coughed hoarsely, blood spurting from his mouth as he cried at last, his pride burning with the flames of the field.

"No!" Ludwig shouted at last, not able to hold in his tears any longer. "Bruder, are you alright? I—I'm coming!"

But Gilbert didn't seem to hear him as he scrambled towards his older brother, careful to avoid the flames as he approached the Prussian, the man was bent over as he gasped painfully. "B—bruder… are you… Gilbert…" whispered Ludwig as he reached out to touch Gilbert's back—but instead of feeling the flushed, warm, and bloody skin of the prisoner, he felt nothing as his fingers traversed through the barrier of skin, through Gilbert's body, and right out his big brother's chest.

"What t—the—" Ludwig started to pull his arm back, then, as his hand had retreated into Gilbert's body, he flexed his fingers unbelievingly, feeling only air. "S—so…" gasped Ludwig, "Th—This… is only… a dream… o—or is it…?" he suddenly question. Then his eyes trailed back to Gilbert's limp, forlorn form.

"G—Gilbert! Gilbert, can you hear me? Is this really happening? Come on already, answer me!"

He reached out again, with both hands now, to grasp his brother's shoulders (he practically had to bend over at a ninety degree angle to do this)—but this time his fingers came into contact with the smoothness of freezing, cold skin that he might have mistakened for ice had he not seen Gilbert there.

"O—Oh _mein Gott_, Gilbert!" He withdrew his hand to see that it was coated with the slick blood. "You're so cold!"

Gilbert seemed almost to hesitate, and then he lifted his heavy head to stare at Ludwig in devastation as the other man got down onto his knees, taking his hurt brother into his arms and cradling him caringly.

For a brief moment, those ruby eyes simply stared into Ludwig's icy blue ones, and then Gilbert whispered, "_… Bruder._"

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><p><strong>I can see that either all of you except Naviar hate me or hate my story since I'm not getting any reviews or anything! THREAT: I will discontinue this fic if I don't get any more reviews! Well… maybe not, but I'm considering it. *shakes head, slaps forehead* Sorry guys… I just don't know where to take this thing next…<strong>


	5. Love, Sorrow, Tears, and Anguish

**I'm so sorry for the long delay… thank you to Naviar, yellow blaze, YourDarkMistress, YaoiFangirl12 (whose name is now XxLudwig BeilschmidtxX) and for reviewing. I owe it to you guys who never stop loyally reviewing, so after a long period of writer's block, I've returned. Enjoy, please, and for God's sake, review!**

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><p>"… <em>Bruder… b-bruder…!"<em> Ruby red eyes suddenly widened in horror and shock as Gilbert came to realize that his brother, Ludwig, of all people, was right beside him—right there in front of his eyes. He struggled instantly in Ludwig's arms, squirming and managing somehow to get out of the blonde's hold and to scramble away against the hard, cold, black rock that held his chains to the ground. "_N-no…_ _nein, you can't stay here! Get out of here, now! The curse, there is a side effect… if you stay here too long…_"

"No, Gilbert!" protested Ludwig, wiping the sweat off his forehead to instead replace it with a thick streak of the crimson fluid that had come from his brother's body. "I-I can't let you stay here any longer! Gilbert, I'm so sorry, it's all my fault, everything, I ought to be the one paying for that night…" Tears rolled down the other man's cheeks as he crashed to the grasses on his knees, sorrow engulfing him wholely. "I'm sorry… bruder, I can't let you do this, taking all this pain just for me…"

The Prussian gulped, his breath coming out shakily from being so close to tears, spurred on by his younger sibling's actions. Gilbert might have been an ass, he may have been lazy and egotistical in his past, but no longer. That he promised, not only for the sake of himself but also for Ludwig, who had dealed with his selfishness for so long—and nothing had come out of it for the boy, only stress and anger. And then how had Prussia repaid Ludwig for his work, for protecting and caring for him?

He had gone about his ways for much too long, and now he had paid the ultimate price—death, and not only death, but eternal torture. But as much as these demons could whip and beat him, nothing hurt more than knowing that Ludwig was in pain and was, in fact, the one suffering the most from the loss of Gilbert's life. Gilbert wanted desperately to thank him and to somehow pay his little bruder back for everything, but it wasn't the time. Now there was something else much more important to focus on.

"_Nein, West, you don't understand… the curse… if you stay beside me so long like this, in this place, you will also be cursed as I am… but much worse… please, please leave me…_"

There was a tone of desperacy in his older brother's voice, one that bothered the other German greatly.

"Bruder… I swear," spoke Ludwig slowly, considering his words carefully. He wanted this to be a moment that would remain in his heart forever, as hurting and damaging to his feelings as it was. This was Gilbert. Nothing mattered more than the remembrance of Gilbert, that he was sure of. "…I swear that I will free you from this prison. Nothing," he promised, leaning in to kiss his brother on the cheek gently, not wanting to harm the smaller man's body any more than what hell had brought upon that frail figure, "will stop me from doing that. _Nothing_. I'll save you, bruder. And someday we'll be together again."

Gilbert's skin was ice cold, and Ludwig felt as if the flesh on his lips were being frozen over with pure ice, but nevertheless he did not move himself. It was the least he could do for one that he loved so dearly.

"_Ja… someday…_" Gilbert was brought a small ray of hope by Ludwig's words, and a small hint of a smile lit up his face for one moment, just _one_ moment—and then it vanished just as quickly as it had come, lost in the trauma as a single shard of glass is buried by an avalanche of snow. Precious, but gone. "_But now, please, I beg of you… leave me. That day will come, soon, but not today._"

Ludwig's lips left his pale skin as he spoke those words, and the country missed the coolness of those tender lips, but now was not the time to dwell on the loss of such minorities.

Although it might have seemed to others a minority, Gilbert, bowing his head to stare at the ground as he listened to his brother's shuffling as the other stood and began to retreat back the way he had come, knew that it was not so trifle. It was love. His brother seemed to hold so much caring and love for him that it seemed even the man named Roderich that had once been a part of his life could not have loved him more.

Yes, he had had a lover. A true love, one that held the albino in his arms and whispered in his ears with adoration as he cradled the man he loved. Yes, Gilbert had once loved. But no longer, for just as he had thrown all his other allies and friends away, he had thrown Roderich away so easily, inflicting the brunnette's heart with a shattering impact that could have killed him had he not been a nation. It had seemed too easy, so simple to toss away the love of another, and now he understood how much it had meant to him at the time. But now was too late to take back everything. Only Ludwig could be there for him now.

And Ludwig, watching Gilbert turn his head to the ground and away from him, had felt a sharp pierce in his heart, an anguish that came not from an arrow or sword or gun, but from devotion. Devotion to the man that he called bruder, devotion to the one who had raised him, the one he loved.

And now he knew, without a doubt, even though he had sworn just the night before that it was not so, that Gilbert loved him as well. And that was the only thing that gave Ludwig courage to turn and sprint back to the pathway he had descended upon, to return to the world from whence he came. And as he ran he uttered an oath of loyalty, to the brother that he had once had, to save him.

"Gilbert…" Tears sprang to the soldier's blue orbs, "_Ich liebe dich… _I love you." He said it aloud and quietly, as if the other had been right beside him and able to hear his voice.

And Gilbert glanced up at Ludwig's receding form. He had heard that deep, grave voice in his head, and, having lived with Ludwig for so many years, he knew precisely who it belonged to, and he smiled fondly and whispered back, "_I love you too, Ludwig. I love nothing more than you._"

Ludwig heard. Somewhere in the back of his mind he had heard, and as he dived back to the area in which he had first glimpsed hell, he cried, "Goodbye… bruder."

And then he vanished. Seeing this, Gilbert hung his head as his chest heaved up and down with the tears that he brought forward. Tears of pain, tears of sorrow, of grief, of death, of sadness.

Tears of love.

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><p>No one knew, but deep in the shadows of his home, Austria cried somberly as he slammed his fingers on the piano in the position of the notes of Chopin's No. 11: Étude in A minor, <em>Winter Wind<em>,sobbing for the death of the one he loved. Every night. Every night he cried for Prussia since the day of the funeral.

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><p>So much sorrow. So much anguish. And yet so much love in the world.<p>

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><p><strong>That was a short and wordy chapter, so sorry for the rough composition that it is, but it was all that I had. Please review, was this or was this not terrible? Thank you.<strong>


	6. Trap

**I'm back, I'm so sorry for the long delay, but I'm doing all that I can do. I haven't got reviews lately! No reviews lately! That's really what I'm not going on with this fic as dedicatedly as I should… Scroll down and press on the Review button please? **_**Ich danke**_**! Oh, **_**ja**_**, I heaped up all your reviews, for the people who were nice enough to review, and I made a few decisions. Okay, new poll—should I bring Gilbird into this? I think it'd be nice! *gestures to review button* And Ludwig goes a little crazy in this chapter, it'll all play into the story…**

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><p>Ludwig was running, sprinting, through the darkness. His breath came out in short gasps, the tears streaming down his cheeks, glistening in his ice-blue eyes as he ran, not knowing where he was going, not comprehending anything. He couldn't think!<p>

_Where, oh where,_ _is the way back to the real world? Lord… save me… I don't want to see… all this…_

He was _losing_ his mind, he was sure… he wanted to just shut his eyes tightly for a moment, to feel a moment of black, silent peace. He wanted to lose himself, to simply forget everything that had happened, everything that he had seen.

_Please… God… free Gilbert… from this prison… free _me_…_

Ludwig collapsed, on all fours, on the black, ash-covered ground, his knees cutting against sharp pieces of rock and he could feel the skin on palms was scraped, bleeding. It was terrifying. Ever since the night Gilbert had at last returned to him, he had begun to lose him mind slowly, to everything he had feared.

He feared death. He feared suffering. And he feared _fear_ itself. To have to cower in fright of something, _anything_, was too much for the man to take. He was _Germany_. He couldn't fear, he could not surrender himself to emotion. No, he must be strong…

But the senses that had managed to break free of his control long ago since the night before and haunted him, since Gilbert's visit, were now overtaking him. Fear, anger, hatred, love, and compassion. All flooding him, overwhelming. Ludwig tried to fight it, he had to get up… and keep going...

But he was losing.

He had never felt so helpless, so desolate. Ludwig could feel his energy draining, with every second, from his muscles, from his will to continue. Was there no release from the endless suffering?

"Lord…" His pale, trembling hand wrapped around the iron cross on the chain around his neck. "H-help… me…"

And then he shut his eyes, kneeling in surrender. He had lost… and then all went black.

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><p>There was a flash of white light that seemed to shoot through his mind instantaneously, jolting it to reality. And then it too slowly faded darkness, and for some time Ludwig lay, on his side, silently.<p>

Silence.

It was strange to him, he knew now. For so long he had lived under the burden of the responsibilty of starting a terrible war, the murder of _six million_ lives, and the loss of his brother. It had been _his_ fault that Gilbert was lost, _his_ fault that he had lost everything, or at least temporarily. For years he had been haunted not only but his feelings, but by history itself, from everything he had done.

And it really had never bothered him much before. He had managed to get past the insanity after the war, to break free of all the madness. At last he had gained control of his mind, and yet, just minutes ago, he had lost it completely. Everything was coming back, tugging at him, refusing to let him be.

The voices in his head had tortured him as he stumbled across the burning fields away from his older brother, the images, the screams of the people he had been forced to kill. To _murder_. After so many years he had not expected them to haunt him again, but they were back now. Whispering in his ears, pushing to take control of him like they had done so for months, years, after the end to the war.

Ludwig didn't want to allow them to dominate his thoughts once more. They had been in control for so long at one time in his life, and he didn't want that suffering any longer.

But was he the one to make the choice? Or was it the Lord?

Or was it the devil who was bringing such torment to him?

The devil… that must be what Gilbert had been speaking of! In the prison where he had been held, tortured, the older nation had screamed something that Ludwig had thrown aside at the moment, and now he remembered it: _If you stay you will also be cursed_.

Cursed? Was this the curse that Gilbert had spoken of? If so then it was truly unfortunate. How on earth could he rescue his brother when he was allowing the voices of the past to drive him insane? Then all was truly lost!

… but now the voices were silent. There were no screams, no pleas for mercy, no sobbing of young children. No moans of those millions of people who had been starved, gassed, and shot by his soldiers. No snarls of his boss at the time of the war, scolding him, _shouting_ at him with hatred, for all his blunders. His mind was free for a minute, to wander and to sit in the quiet that it had been granted.

Was the curse gone? Had it only been for a while that it had grasped him? He felt a slight hope raise in him…

And then shame and sorrow resurrected, the yells and shrieks. These voices… they had been with him since he was a young country of about twenty years of age. He had grown accustomed to their presence, but when he had managed to rid his mind of them, he had gone on to live a normal life. He had been so relieved by the sudden release that he took for granted that now, after the voices had returned, the torture was growing too much for him to bear.

"No… qu-quiet… don't torment me any more… l-leave me alone! Why do you haunt me _now_? Of all times!"

Ludwig's eyes snapped open, and he climbed, waveringly, to his feet, swinging his fist wildly about in the air as if to ward off demons.

"Why do you haunt me!" he cried, clutching his head desperately. There was no salvation! No hope for him!

But suddenly, not more than ten feet away, appeared a young man, or at least he would appear young. He stood, his back straight and his face filled with pride, with long, silky blonde hair and sharp, piercing blue eyes that glared through Ludwig. One look at the man and one could tell that he was a man of war, for his armor was dented and marked with the blows numerous enemies had struck upon him.

The boy stepped back, shocked, at the sight of the older male that stood before him.

"F-father… _Vati_… Germania?" gasped Ludwig, stopping for a moment, not daring to believe. "_V-Vati…_ is it really you? Have you returned…? But how!"

At this the ancient nation moved his head slightly to the side, as if in response. Then his stone face broke into a radiant smile. "_Son… finally… it has been so long! So many years since I have seen your face!_"

He started towards Ludwig, joy flitting across his face as he offered to take Ludwig into his embrace.

"N-no… _nein_!" the other blurted out. "It can't be you! Th-my mind has done this before! It is not real!"

"_Ludwig… would you not even accept me? I have come back for you, son! We can be a family again! Your brothers—_"

"ENOUGH!" screamed the poor boy—his hand dived wildly into his jacket pocket, plunging in deep and resurfacing with a shiny, black, metal object in its grasp. "IT'S NOT YOU! IT'S NOT!"

The older nation's smile melted off his face, then his expression broke into sheer terror. "_No… Ludwig… don't you love me? Would you kill me for fear of your own mind! Don't son, pl—_"

But he did not get much further, for Ludwig rushed forward and slammed the weapon against the side of the man's face, and the being exploded unexpectedly into small flakes of golden dust.

But immediately after Ludwig had done so, there was a sound behind him, and he whirled around, cocking the gun and aiming it directly before him in both his hands. But his hands began to shake, for there was no possible way he could ever harm this one. "I-Italy! What are you doing here?"

"_Doitsu!_" The child raised his arms in the air in an odd manner. "_It's you! You've come back! Japan told me you were gone to England's house!_"

"Y-yes… I-I was heading for England's… but… wait, no, I can't be letting it… control my mind! Feliciano, this isn't you! You're at Lovino's house, you can't be here! My mind…"

"_G-Germany, what do you mean? It's me! Come on… let's go home, what are you waiting there for_?"

Italy made a move as if to take Ludwig's hand, but the blonde jerked away stiffly, sweat pouring down his forehead, not knowing what to believe any longer.

"I can't trust you! You're _not_ Feliciano! He wouldn't show up here like this!" Ludwig's grip tightened on his gun. "I know you can't be Feliciano because he's much too _lazy_ to hike all the way here on his _own_!"

When he looked back on this it occurred to him that it was a most strange thing to say to a hallucination in such a serious predicament, but it was true. Italy was very much too idle to even get up to walk to the supermarket himself, unless it was for pasta.

But before Ludwig could make any move to escape from the ghost of his mind, the figure vanished, only to be replaced with another. Before he knew it, the brunnette had been replaced by a silver-haired albino with ruby eyes that burned through his own blue ones.

"… Gil-Gilbert…" gasped Ludwig, not knowing how to react to this image. "O-oh _mein Gott_… what is going on with me… it's not you, it's not you…"

But he was unable to take it any longer, and collapsed to his knees. He could not hold it off any longer, and was giving up to the madness. "B-bruder… how can it be… I'm no better than I was years ago… after World War 2… I've lost myself again, Gilbert…"

"… _well_, _I'm here now, Ludwig…_" Gilbert bent over so that his face was close to the blonde's. "_Don't worry, it'll be all right… if you follow me...you'll be fine soon. Don't worry yourself._"

And without knowing it, Ludwig had risen to follow the other, blinding moving towards him. Gilbert was so close to him… he felt as if they were together again already…

"Bruder, w-wait for me… where are you going…? W-wha—oh, hell!"

Suddenly Ludwig lurched forward, losing his balance, and as he fell forward, he could glimpse a blur of the face, just feet in front of him, belonging to what he thought was his brother—it was marked with a hateful smirk, a taunting, cunning smile, and he knew that that face could not belong to Gilbert. Years ago perhaps it could have, but not now.

Not when he was in so much pain.

It was his mind, the voices residing within it, that had at last managed to begin to destroy him, beginning to desecrate him slowly from inside.

But instead of falling completely, Ludwig managed to regain his balance, instantaneously jolting backward the direction he had come, and found himself in a few seconds on the ground on his back, which was aching considerable from the fall he had taken. He had, just by a chance of luck, managed to save himself. He had allowed the voices to go too far, and now they had taken the form of a loved one, luring him… luring… him…

… to the edge of a cliff.

Ludwig moved, slowly, pulling himself slowly to the very edge, peering over and down into the ocean far below. It was littered with sharp, protruding mountains of rock that would have surely skewered him if he had taken enough of the bait and tumbled into the water below. The vibrant blue waters splashed against the black sides of the rocky cliff violently, and he knew that if he had fallen down there he would not have survived against the strength of the waves alone, which would have crushed him.

"O-oh, Gilbert…" Ludwig spoke as if his brother could hear him, "what is happening to you? T-to _me_…?"

And he collapsed on the ground there, sobbing, at the prospect of what was to come.

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><p><strong>Well, I was a little rusty, but I hope that can at least compensate for the +30 days that I have not updated. Please, everyone, do forgive me for not updating my other fics. I'm working on it, and I have to work on two requests for a Germano and PruGermano, and if anyone else has any requests, PM me or say so in a review. REVIEW PLEASE, I beg of you. Danke!<strong>

**Oh yes, I'm adding that I'm currently working on 8 other works right now, 4 new ones and some updates. I'm glad to announce that I will updating on "Let's be Allies", "You'll be Mine" (finally!), "Return of the Roman Empire" (gasp!), and "What Happens in the Courtroom". YES! Some few that I've abandoned will now come back! Please expect update by the end of April, because I have so much schoolwork that's piled up on me.**


	7. I'm Back! (Author Note)

I'm back, people! I'm totally back and ready to go for more fanfiction! I know I've been idle for over a year, but no time better than the present!

Well, see you guys around!


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